Prompt: Quietism
by Ngoc Chau
Summary: The kiss was how every kiss between them always went: quick, chaste, never lingering for more than a few seconds, and only once. His kiss was gentle on her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed. Mayuri x Nemu, Lemon, Part 5/5 of Skin


**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**so this is the last part for the Skin string. Would you believe that this was originally going to be rated T until I read some yaoi and got inspired to write more? **

**I hope the flow of the fic was okay. I wrote it in a few hours...**

**Um... I hope they're IC in this scenario. I hope you guys enjoy. Please read and review!**

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><p><strong>Prompt: Quietism<strong>

Upon entering the room, Nemu felt something to be out of the ordinary.

Her senses flared up to high-alert, on guard for whatever might be lurking her bedroom. She cautiously crossed the room to her vanity, inexplicably being drawn to it. Her green eyes widened once she saw what rested upon its counter. It did not belong, though anybody else might say otherwise, but she knew that it had not been there before and that someone had brought it in. It was a little box, light blue and exceptionally plain. She wondered what could be inside. With deliberate slowness, she opened it. She gasped to see what was inside the box.  
>It was a ribbon, red and sleek. It was not that much different from the one she sported as a choker around her neck, save that it was a shade or two darker. The ribbon had been folded up, moving like a snake in air as she pulled it out from one end. The other hand jumped to her mouth.<p>

There was no other answer for who could've left her this, only one person could've. Only said person could've been so profound to leave a message in such a way.

It was as though Kurotsuchi Mayuri was in the room with her; expressing himself earnestly to her the only way she knew that he possibly could: secretively and silently. She understood. She knew that he knew that she would understand. There arose a bitter feeling in her stomach that made her feel sick. He didn't need to do this, she thought as she clutched the ribbon to her chest. Why did he do this? She closed her eyes all the tighter, feeling the tears run down her cheek.  
>Why was it that even the smallest gestures like this could mean so much for her, that it could almost eradicate everything? Why was it that everything he did made her fall in love with him, even when it hurt her so much? From the strip of red ribbon, she could practically smell his scent of ice and chemicals. The smell of it made her yearn for him. Why would he give her something like this? It was her who had been insolent, she was the one who should make it up to him! And she had treated him so horribly, avoiding him when all of his life everyone else avoided him. She had to make such a big deal out of what he told her when he had done no wrong but tell her the truth about herself rather than lie to her and crush her at the hardest. She damned her stupid pride; pride, that he often chastised her for having.<p>

She headed towards the door, eager now to see him so she could properly apologize to him and do whatever it would take to convince him that she was truly sorry and none of what had transpired during the past few months was because of him. She faltered in her steps to the door, only to turn back around towards the vanity, then back towards the door. The ribbon was clenched in her fist. Finally, she turned to the vanity and removed her choker to replace it with the gifted ribbon. That would be a start, let him know that she appreciated everything that he did for her. Before exiting through the door, she wiped away her tears and composed herself, wanting him to see her as he always did. She had to remember to not seem to eager going to him, counting her steps and making sure that they were even. Luckily, no one really noticed how the twelfth division lieutenant had a slight bounce to her step.

She entered his office, large and dark, and called out his name. There was no answer. She went inside and called for him once more. Still no answer. Looking around, Nemu concluded that he was nowhere to be seen. She turned a corner and there was the flutter of dropped papers and a small gasp. Nemu had bit her tongue to stay silent. It was Akon. She wondered what he was doing in the captain's office, seldom anyone but her was allowed in there - particularly when it was empty.  
>She helped him pick up his papers and handed it back to him.<p>

Where was the captain, she asked.

Akon had replied that the Chief was going on an excursion with some of the other scientists such as Kuma, Osoku, and Megane; and that he had not specified when he would be back.

She asked him what instructions he had left behind. He left none, simply telling Akon to spread the word onto Nemu that she was in charge until he got back and if anything was amiss she would pay dearly.

At this, Nemu could only nod and dismissed Akon out of the room, telling him that she knew just what to get started on.

She went to the computer and began looking up data, organizing it and opening the files that were often filled with notes upon current and future experimentations. The blue screen was bright in her face and staring at it so long stung at her eyes. Unconsciously, she had been fingering the red ribbon around her neck and when she realized she did, she stopped typing at the computer and leaned back in the chair.  
>More tears spilled again. She should've been earlier to see him off at the very least. Why did he not tell her? Did he hate her now? No, he did not hate her, what was around her neck was proof of his affection for her. Yet that only led to more questions about why he should've given her something before he left and why he would've left her behind: she could not recall a day when he left her to venture off alone.<br>A hand went to cover her eyes.  
>She cried.<p>

Kurotsuchi Mayuri did not come back the next day. Nor did he come back the next week. There was not much change in the division, though the other divisions were often told that the twelfth division captain was busy working instead of that he had gone off somewhere to hunt for specimens. After learning that Mayuri had left, she shortly discovered the next hour that Ashisoji Jizo was not in his room and so had also been taken away to go with Mayuri. She thought the little zanpakuto spirit could've comforted her in his master's absence but she was denied that as well too. Desperate, she filled her hours with work. Nemu had done an adequate job in maintaining the division while he was gone and Akon was always there by her side to help her. She always thanked him for his assistance.

Her sadness and pain had gone away the moment she opened that box on her vanity. And everyday she wore the gifted choker, putting the previous one away. Each day she patiently waited for him and mentally scolded herself whenever she allowed doubt to seep into her mind. He would come back, he had to. He promised her so long ago that he would always be back.

One afternoon, she was sitting at the balcony of the division. How strange that although each division of the Gotei 13 had practically the same amount of shinigami, their division always seemed so empty…

Their work was finished for the day and she did not feel like going inside so soon, nothing was in their awaiting her. Nemu sought to stay out until it was time to go to sleep, when the sun would be gone and the moon having stolen its place. She sighed as she tried to recall the anger and sadness she had felt before, it seemed as though it was in another lifetime. No other life but creation and scientist could've suited her and she was thinking herself a fool to even dare to consider that there was the possibility of children or connubial bliss in her future. Such things were meant for other people, just not for her.  
>She felt a strange calmness in staring out at the stillness of the grounds, the contentment washed over her like a lukewarm rain. There was not much more she could ask out of her existence, that which Mayuri had granted to her when he did not have to. She had a good job, she had friends, she had a man to care for and who cared enough for her to always resurrect her, and she had duties to fulfill; she accepted what the fates had given her and thanked them for it.<p>

Then she was surprised to sense the presence of who she had been waiting for all those free afternoons and evenings: Kurotsuchi Mayuri. It had been a month. Yet she somehow knew by his presence that he had been back sooner. It was strange what can be known and what can be said when no one really does any talking.  
>No words were spoken. Were words ever really needed between the two of them? Just as she was about to turn around to look at him, greet and to ask if his trip had gone well; he was already standing by her side.<p>

He fingered the choker that she wore, he must've known that it was his for she felt relief when his digits moved on the road of the red. His finger, the one with the long nail, traced the width of the choker on her neck. She shivered excitedly at the action. He retracted the finger and moved to the front of her.

First thing she did as soon as he was before her was that she looked up into his golden eyes. Oh, she could've drowned in those golden eyes of his, eyes that pierced and glared and were hard. But eyes that could be gentle when he wanted them to, that could comfort with his promises, and eyes that could see the truth. She didn't need anything more as long as he was with her, she thought.  
>She conjured up a smile for him. He did not smile back and she was afraid that she had repelled him away from her and nothing could ever be the same again. <em>Never<em>, the word rang in her head in that familiar voice. And before she knew it, his face was close to hers and the distance between them was closed by the joining of their lips.  
>The kiss was how every kiss between them always went: quick, chaste, never lingering for more than a few seconds, and only once. His kiss was gentle on her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed and then the connection was broken.<p>

Then the next thing was that he was already at the doorway, his back to her, the emblem of their division bright on the white of his back. The captain haori billowed as he left her.

She got up from her chair on the balcony and went after him.

He was already gone yet an instinct in her, more basic than that of her sex, directed her where to go. And it was right.

By the time she arrived in his bedroom, he had already shed off the golden frame with its ear attachments and his hair-piece that resembled goat-horns. The paint remained as did the scarf about his neck and the rest of his clothes. Ashisoji Jizo was in his proper room. If he ever asked her about his appearance, she would admit that he looked better as he was currently before her. The two of them stood apart for quite some time, looking at each other: he at his closet and she at the doorway.

Taking the first step, Nemu literally did that and closed the door behind her. She bowed low then rose, never breaking the eye contact as she greeted him, "Mayuri-sama."

She half-expected him to smile that wicked smile of him, but he still did not. His face remained morose. "How has the division been?" he asked her.

She replied that it had been running well in his absence, but his presence should definitely motivate his subordinates more.

He stayed statuesque.

Nemu took another step towards him, she asked when did he return.

He replied that he had come back a week ago and had locked himself in the vaults underground to properly label and ready each specimen for the upcoming season when the current subjects should be dead.

She nodded: another step closer towards him. He stayed put where he was, it was only she who kept walking to him.  
>Finally, after what seemed to be eons, she stopped two steps before him. Her hands reached out to him and gripped the haori at his shoulders. She looked at him, her eyes scanning everywhere on his face and his own eyes followed her own to where they were directing to.<br>It came out like a mutter, yet it was articulated. Quiet yet loud in the significance of the room that surrounded the two of them. "I've missed you, Mayuri-sama."  
>She had never said such a thing, thought analogous to it, but never once had she said it out loud. Love had never came from her lips either as his. She heard him exhale sharply and she was afraid she might've said the wrong thing - she could not decipher what it was that he was feeling.<p>

Without warning, his hands grabbed her by the arms and he forced a brutal kiss on her lips.

There were the stumbling of feet moving back and forwards, then the collision of something that the back of her knees. Her back hit his mattress, their legs dangled over the edge. She heard him stamping at his own feet, tearing his waraji off. She followed example and kicked her own shoes off onto the floor. His tongue prodded her mouth open, she immediately complied. His tongue dove in and tangled with hers, licking and flicking away. His hands, rough and full, touched her everywhere, handling her self like he wanted to make sure that it was really her. Her legs wrapped round his waist, his hips buckled forward into her and she yelped, pleasured. He charged against her clothed heat again, her heels dug into his lower back. He pushed her more onto the bed, she pulled him up, his legs scrambling in a panic.

She knew what was coming next, could feel it like an order from him and she wanted it too. It had been too long and his presence made the yearning more intense. Her hands that had been gripping tightly onto his shoulders released themselves and shimmied down to her lower half. She bunched up her skirt around her waist and proceeded to pull down her panties.

His mouth left hers with a wet _slurrp. _"No." he whispered harshly in her ear.

"You don't want me to…" her voice trailed off as his mouth found her neck and sucked upon it.

"Did I say that I didn't want you?" his nose brushed by the choker, "I want you…." a breath here, "to take everything off." He bit her neck, his teeth making contact with the choker, "But leave the damn choker on."

She nodded her head, her face warm, "Yes, Mayuri-sama."

He backed away from her and she took this to be his permission for her to sit up and divest herself.

Sitting upright on the bed, her knees closed together, the first thing to go were her panties: tossed over the side. She watched him watching her take off her clothes and felt her face flushing, though it remained nonetheless indifferent. The obi was pulled off and tossed heavily to the floor to join the shoes. As she was the opening of the shihakusho became bigger and bared her pale chest, she felt his arms surround her and pull her atop his kneeling lap. He had already rid himself of his haori and his kosode, the hakama undone and hanging off his hips. Her feet planted themselves on the surface of the bed. And their thoughts spilled into one another.  
><em>Touch me here. Hold me closer. Come nearer. Kiss me. So warm. Slower. Harder. Oh God! I want to fuck you. Pull it back. Lick it. Bite me there. Make me yours. Move your hands higher. <em>  
><em>Claws! Fuck me. Take it off. Leave it on. Yes! No! Don't stop! Please! Inside. Too cold! Oh, please, don't stop! It's been too long! I've missed you! I couldn't think of anything else. I've been wanting this for months. I'm so sorry! Forgive me! Yes! Here! Higher! There! There! Louder! Scream my name! Only my name! Never let me go. Swear yourself to me. Always, I promise. Good girl, what a very good girl. <em>  
><em>I love you! I love you! I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you…<em>

His mouth left her nipple and moved to her lips. The kiss ended too quickly, leaving the two of them silent and face to face: the tips of their nose touching together and their breaths mingling. Was he ever capable of looking sad? She didn't think so, it must've been a trick of the eyes because his expression was not sad, but contemplative.  
>He whispered into her ear, gentle, but the words were sharp as a whip against her, "Don't ever say that."<p>

She nodded.

But what else could she have said then? What they had between them was not love, never love. What they had was a bond that was ore basic than love: that she knew she must be with him and he had to have her at his side. And it was more complex than love: that despite his abuse he could not imagine being without her and she would gladly give us her for him without orders. He hated incorrect labelling.

He laid her back slowly on the bed, descending with her too. Her feet remained where they were, her knees spreading wider and wider to accommodate his body between. Her hair was matted to her brow, perspiration coated them both. Under her hands on his shoulder blades, she felt his paints getting warmer and sticking to her own hands. She gripped into him and felt in squish between her nails. He nailed himself inside her, she tossed her head back with a shriek. He had at her and she welcomed it gladly.

It was intense, he would not look away from her as he moved inside her. Her lids fluttered, dizzy in the head and heart. His fingers interlocked with hers, tightening its grip every time he thrust-ed in. Their fingers still interlocked, his elbows bent and his body came closer to hers. Every gap of his was filled by her, every space of her was filled by him. His breath tickled her neck, she felt his lips and tongue moist as it smacked against the skin there.

"Mayuri-sama!" she gasped.

He sucked, she knew there would surely be a love bite tomorrow. Her head bumped against the headboard and she struggled to move lower against his pounding. Like a broken record, she gasped out his name over and over, an occasional cross between whimper and yelp interrupting herself. He was everywhere to her. She moved against him, meeting thrust for thrust. Her feet hooked under his knees as she pushed her rear up higher to bring him in deeper. She whimpered from the fullness of it all.

What followed soon after was a pleasure that writing could possibly never achieve to describe. His name, stuttered in screams, was emitted by her as she shook and tightened her hold on him. He trembled and after he thrust-ed in a final time, he rested against her.

She panted heavily, kissing the space beneath the hole that was his ear and collar bone between the breaths. She licked his shoulder.

He rolled off her, onto his side, an arm acting as a substitute pillow. His chest rose with every heavy breath he took. Some of his paints had been smeared and wiped away.

Nemu sat up on the bed, her legs sore and still spread apart, knees widely distanced in front and her soles behind her pointing up to the ceiling, her hands acting as a gate to her womanhood. She smiled sweetly at him, small though it was, and felt a new woman. There was a difference from their earlier couplings. He had his eyes wide open at her, looking only at her, through her, around her…. She found it unsettling, but did not comment upon it.

"Mayuri-sama?' she inquired.

He responded in kind, "Nemu."

She thought him to be tired and prepared to gather her clothes to leave him to sleep. She would wake him up later after she had made him his supper for the day. But he held her by the wrist and pulled her back into his bed. She fell onto the mattress and into his twining arms with a heavy _fwump._

"Mayuri-sama!' she exclaimed, impassioned by his boldness and wondering if he was spry already for another go.

He shushed her and told her to be quiet. He was tired and wanted his rest.

Her eyes traveled to inspect their compromising position: their chests pressed against another's, their legs and feet so entangled that if it were not for the different complexions it would be difficult to determine whose legs were whose, and their arms wrapped around each other. His chin rested on the top of her head that was bent at an awkward angle to accommodate the closeness of the fit, her hair sprawled behind her.

"But, Mayuri-sama, my being here-"

He cut her off with a harsh question that contrasted to how gentle he was holding her to him, "Is there somewhere else that you should be then? Because from the looks of earlier, it appeared that you had nothing to do and was just staring blankly at the buildings outside."

Their arms squeezed around each other tighter. She shook her head, "No, Mayuri-sama. But you must have your supper. I will go and-"

He interrupted her once again, "I already ate."

He didn't say it nor did she hear it from him, but she could just understand by the way that he breathed into her hair, how his hands stroked her arms, when his legs tangled themselves around hers so that there was possibly no way for her to go; he wanted her to stay with him, in his bed, wrapped in his arms….

She found herself shaking, overwhelmed by him and all this, her heart trembled as did she. Her vision grew blurry and it was when she tasted salt on her lips that she realized she was crying.

He noticed it as well. Tsking her, "What are you crying for? Stop it."

She nodded her head and buried her face into his neck, kissing his adam's apple. "Yes, Mayuri-sama."

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><p><em>Bleep<em>

"Yeah, I wonder what they were doing in there. It sounded like they were fighting." Yachiru commented, her hand cupping her ear against the wall. .

_Bleep Bleep_

Ashisoji Jizo offered her a banana and the two then went back to their drawings, immediately forgetting(ignoring?) what they had just heard_. _

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><p><strong>So what did you think?<strong>

**Um, I had planned for Mayuri to give Nemu a rose. But then I scratched that because he doesn't seem to be the type to give flowers even if he just passes buy the grass and plucks it. I then considered having him give Nemu a white flower to sort of make it seem apologetic and pure. That didn't seem befitting of Mayuri either. But then I recalled the Red String of Fate and had him give Nemu a new ribbon for a choker. For those who don't know or have forgotten, the red string(ribbon) of fate is used in asiancultures to symbolize destined love between a man and woman. That when a pair is born, a red string connects them despite gender, age, time, place, circumstances, etc... The red string means that the two connected are fated to be. The red string can be twisted with another's or knotted up and tangled, but it can never be broken.**

**So, I've had Mayuri use it sort of like an apology to Nemu to tell her in his own way that he loves her, that the two of them are meant to be no matter what and that he will always stay with her. Something along those lines. Anyway, the meaning is supposed to be very romantic, you can decide to what extent, but it was definitely enough for Nemu to break down crying and realize the 'error of her ways'.**

**Mayuri doesn't really seem to be the superficial type with flowers, more like the practical type. So... any more questions about the red string of fate or anything else?**

**Plus I had him want Nemu to be with him as he slept. Probably OOC, but hopefully the dialogue made up for it. **

**If you have any questions or comments, please leave it in a review or send it in a pm.**


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